No Body Issues
by LouiseKurylo
Summary: How do removing his wedding ring and a hot day combine to trigger bad memories for Jane? One shot story revealing some of Jane's personal history.


**No Body Issues**

**Who:** Jane, Lisbon

**What:** Lisbon stumbles over a surprising sensitivity of jane's

**When:** Shortly after Jane and Lisbon start working for the FBI (after "My Green Thumb," S6,E10)

**Where:** West Texas

**Why:** Background insight into Jane

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of The Mentalist series, scripts, characters, etc. I do owe Clairebare thanks for an observation that led to this story.

* * *

Why does removing his ring and a hot day trigger bad memories for Jane? One shot story.

* * *

Lisbon pulled up to Jane's Airstream promptly at eight a.m. on Saturday. Jane would ride with Lisbon while Cho rode with Kim Fischer to check out an old crime scene of the serial killer case they were now working. Just as Lisbon was getting restless, Jane stepped out, closed and locked the door. Jane wore nice khaki's, a long-sleeve button-down shirt, a blazer, and his old shoes and new socks. _Cho's pleased. After going native, at least Jane's bowing to the social niceties to the extent of socks. Now that he has some._ She wondered a bit about the long-sleeved shirt–it was already 90 degrees hot–but appreciated that at least Jane was approximately on time. He handed her a perfectly-made coffee and put his cup of tea in the cup holder. As he handed it to her she noted with satisfaction that his wedding ring was still off–a whole week since she first noticed it gone. _Maybe he really has turned that corner. _He removed and tossed his jacket on the back seat then rolled up his sleeves to elbow-length before getting in and buckling up.

They met Fischer's SUV in the FBI parking lot. After a few words, they left, agreeing to stay close so they would arrive together. They drove local roads, then picked up I10 going west. Lisbon and Jane passed the time going over the case, although there wasn't enough information to make much headway, and then idly discussing the lay of the land in the FBI: People, office politics, legal proceedings against the remnants of the Blake Association network, comparisons to CBI. Lisbon expressed surprise that Cho and Fischer seemed to get along. Jane found it less surprising. Of Lisbon's team, Cho was the most natural fit with the straight-laced FBI culture. So long as Fischer was competent and fair, Cho could work with her. Jane didn't mention that Fischer presented much the same way Lisbon had a dozen years earlier, though without her imagination or innate–if initially disguised-compassion. Of course, at this point, Fischer hadn't had the benefit of a dozen years of working with Jane to develop much flexibility. Jane was looking forward to providing opportunities to disabuse her of any illusions that she could control everything (and especially him). Her lies in Venezuela and ball-busting demeanor in Brooklyn had gotten Fischer off on the wrong foot with Jane. He had little incentive to temper his inclinations in dealing with her.

Three hours later Lisbon and Fisher agreed to pull off at a truck stop plaza for the gas, restrooms, and beverages. Lisbon and Jane got out. Both stretched. She saw Jane glance at his jacket on the back seat, shrugging almost imperceptibly as he decided to leave it there. The temperature had risen to the low 100's. Lisbon was glad her short-sleeved top and dress pants were light-weight, dreading spending time outside in the summer heat at the crime scene. Jane didn't bother to roll down his sleeves before going inside, his shirt already beginning to stick to his body in the heat. The plaza was surprisingly crowded with summer tourists and people attracted to a nearby rodeo event. The four split up, agreeing to be back to their vehicles in 15 minutes.

Jane was waiting in the SUV when Lisbon returned. She got in, glanced at him, then took a closer look. He was staring out the window, lips pressed into a thin line, thoughts far away. _What? Something happened. What can happen in 15 minutes at a truck stop?_ She started the SUV and pulled onto the interstate behind Fischer's SUV. Five minutes later, Jane was still distracted. Lisbon touched his arm to get his attention and was shocked when he _flinched_ and jerked away from her.

"Jane?"

He took a breath and turned to her. "Sorry. I was startled."

"You're sure–"

"–I'm sure," he interrupted, terminating the topic. He was back in the present for the rest of the drive, but still quieter than usual.

~.~.~.~

Ninety minutes later they arrived in the town where the crime had occurred and decided to have lunch before beginning their work. Jane unrolled his shirt sleeves and buttoned the cuffs, then donned his jacket before walking toward the restaurant. He idly buttoned another button of his shirt, uncharacteristically leaving just one undone. Lunch was utilitarian. Although food poisoning was unlikely, it was equally unlikely they would remember anything positive about the meal. They reviewed the case file for this crime and agreed on how to approach interviewing the people who might have any relevant information. The interviews would occur after checking out the crime scene. The leg work had already been done once by the local PD, so their purpose was to check for any subtle details that the PD missed, or that were suggested by other murders done by the same killer. Jane was all business. Lisbon still felt he was "off" a bit and noticed Cho looking speculatively at him a few times as well.

Their afternoon's work was predictable, thorough, and unenlightening. The most frustrating aspect of the case was that the victims had nothing in common. _Seemed__ to have nothing in common other than that they were women,_ Lisbon corrected herself. The only element linking the seven cases was the semen on or in the victims. Unfortunately, there was no hit on the killer's ID from the FBI's steadily growing DNA database. The seven known victims to date differed in age, race, location, affluence, religion, politics, occupation–everything. Lisbon and Jane were back at the crime scene for one last look. Dusk approached and a mournful train whistle reminded them it was time to leave for the long drive back. Jane took a moment longer, tilting his head at a sudden thought.

"Something?"

"Don't know yet, Lisbon. I'll check it out back at the office. Wiley will help."

"Don't want to tell me?"

"Nah. Too uncertain to know if it's an inspired hunch or a goofy random thought."

~.~.~.~

Fischer and Cho left heading for Lubbock on another matter. Lisbon and Jane would head back to Austin for the rest of their weekend. Jane shed his jacket and flung it onto the SUV's back seat, then rolled up his sleeves and undid another shirt button at his neck. He collapsed into the passenger seat, turning the air conditioning up full blast.

"Godawful hot today, y'know?" he complained.

"I'm surprised you didn't pass out," Lisbon said with a smile. "You stuck with the jacket and ;long sleeves all afternoon."

He grunted in a non-reply.

She negotiated the local roads to the I10 entrance ramp, then finally was on the interstate. They had agreed to have dinner en route, not wanting a repeat of the painfully mediocre lunch.

In the security and intimacy of darkness, Lisbon decided to try again. "Jane, you've been out of sorts ever since that first truck stop. What's up?"

"Nothing," he replied neutrally.

"Anytime the outside world can notice, it's never 'nothing' with you. Come on, talk to me," she prodded gently.

"Yeah, well, you're just getting too good at noticing," he grumbled.

"I have a 12-year course in advanced Jane-watching, you know. ... So it _is_ something."

He sipped some tea, letting a few minutes pass. He _had_ vowed to be more open with Lisbon, did _want_ to be more...visible to her. He sighed, "I made a mistake. My sleeves were rolled up and I didn't wear the jacket because it's so damned hot."

"What? I'm not following you."

"I'm 40 years old, Lisbon. I'm scruffy looking from Venezuela. And yet I still get unwanted attention. Wearing a wedding ring for two decades has made me complacent. Now, without it, well, I just wasn't expecting it at the truck stop."

She was glad he couldn't see her expression. Surprise and–except that it was apparently upsetting to him–amusement. She set aside her reaction, realizing she could not be understanding the situation from his perspective. She responded seriously, "I'm still not following you. You're an attractive man and you know it." _I've finally said it out loud, crossed that line._ "This can't be new. I can't believe you have body issues. ... You don't, right?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Lisbon realized that this hooked into something a lot more significant than she could understand right now. "No, I don't. I–I have...exploitation issues."

Not having a clue of where this was going, Lisbon kept quiet even as the silence stretched long between them. She pulled off at the next rest stop exit.

He finally continued. "I was in front of a crowd from age 10. It was okay at first. I was a cute kid doing surprisingly good readings. It...changed when I hit 12, 13." He swallowed. "When you're on stage, you're more than an entertainer. You're a...receptacle for the audience's ideas and desires and needs." She could hear as much as see him shake his head in the dark. He rubbed the tops of his thighs, always a sign of anxiety in him. "Damn it, I was 13 and had women four times my age hitting on me. Don't get me wrong. I did my share of sowing wild oats. But with girls my age! –You're a beautiful woman, Lisbon. I know you've been in situations where a man's desires have nothing to do with you as a person. It can be the same for men. It's never good to feel like an object, to be used by someone."

"I'm sorry, Jane." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "It was attention only? Did-–did it ever go further?"

"No, thank god. But there were other things, too. Carnivals are the embodiment of transient. They attract pedophiles. After a while, I could pick up on that, read that kind of interest, too. Once a guy grabbed me after a show. I would never have gotten away except for Pete. Pete damn near beat him to death. The guy was well-known to the cops, who let Pete off the hook. My father also kept them away." He paused, swallowed, then continued, "But it was more that he was protecting his investment, his cash cow, than protecting me."

Lisbon took his hand in both of hers and squeezed gently. He looked around, surprised that they were now parked in a dim area of a rest stop. He hadn't noticed Lisbon exit the interstate. He leaned back again, eyes closed, and decided to share the last bit of that particular pain. "One pedophile turned up at the show every night of the carnival in three different towns. The last night I saw my father talking with him, accepting money from him."

"God, Jane!"

"Fortunately it wasn't what I thought. My father had somehow learned the guy was violating parole and blackmailed him for not informing the cops."

"My God, Jane. I had no idea."

"Hey. It wasn't all like that. But enough to remember, to make unwanted attention unwelcome."

"I understand."

He continued, wanting to get it all out now that he had started. "Worrying about pedophiles was a big part of why I stayed with the carnival so long. I wanted out from age 12 but didn't think I could defend myself on my own. So I stuck with it till 16. And helped my father scam dying people out of their money. I'm a piece of work, Lisbon."

She leaned over and hugged him, kissed his cheek. Fiercely, "You were a child, a victim yourself! Don't you dare feel guilty for your father's sins."

"Sorry I'm dumping all this on you. It just caught me by surprise after all these years."

"Is there any way I can help? Maybe you should go back to wearing your ring if it makes your life easier?"

"No, taking it off is a step in the right direction. I need to put the murders behind me and move on. The carny memories are just more stuff that needs to stay in the past." Jane silently thought, _Besides, if things work out maybe I'll be able to put another ring on sometime soon._ "Let's find someplace for dinner. It's been a long day. I'll even tell you my brilliant-or-goofy idea if you want."

She started the SUV and backed out of the parking space. "I think we're close to a decent-sized town. Maybe we'll have better luck this time." Glancing over at Jane, she was relieved he seemed to be more relaxed, more open to her. _Another land mine uncovered and defused. Thank God I didn't make light of it before learning the real story._

Dinner was good.

And his idea eventually solved the case. The serial killer hopped trains, killing random women wherever he got off. He was eventually caught.


End file.
